Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie
by JessMW
Summary: In all his years of working in politics, Eli thought he'd seen the most vicious things people could do to each other. But when a serial killer seizes Chicago and stalks the city's young women, he learns that nothing could've prepared him for the nightmare and turmoil about to engulf every aspect of his life.


**A/N: Ok, hi! First Good Wife story, here's the first chapter!:-) Hope you like the idea, and let me know what you think!**

Chapter 1

"No…no, you moron! We can't _run_ _it_ like that, Maddie Hayward's camp would have a field day! YES, phrasing is everything! This _cannot_ be the first campaign you've ever worked on; do you not understand-ok, look, call me back. Just—call me when you get your proverbial crap together." With that, Eli slammed the phone down, reached into his desk drawer, and found two aspirin. When he'd hastily swallowed them, the campaign manager closed his eyes and pressed two fingers to his temple, leaning forward onto his desk. He was glad to be back, really, he was. There was no place he'd rather be than here, working to help Peter (and in turn himself) succeed. It was just that…good Lord, when did interns get so _stupid_? Eli sighed and only prayed he'd never been quite that dense as a young man. The headache was just starting to subside when the ringing of his office phone broke his thoughts.

"Eli Gold speaking, what do you want?" A light snort greeted him.

"Geez, Dad. Making friends?" Eli smiled softly at the familiar voice and relaxed his tense shoulders. "Marissa. Honey, how are you?"

"I'm good. About to go to class. Just wanted to call and make sure we were still on for dinner tomorrow night."

Eli sat straight up in his chair. Tomorrow night. _Crap_. He could hear her sigh on the other end of the line.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't forget," he replied in a mimicking tone. He had, of course, forgotten; but he'd be damned if his pride would allow her know that. Plus, he actually couldn't stand to disappoint his daughter.

"I'll be there as planned. Seven o' clock?" Eli could practically feel the eye-roll, but all she said was "Yep. See you then, Dad. Love you. And try not to work so hard, okay?" He detected the concern in her voice and smiled again into the phone. "I won't. And I love you too. Have a good day." When they'd hung up, Eli leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, hands clasped behind his head. He suddenly felt lighter and more relaxed; it felt good to have something to look forward to that wasn't work related. Yes, he could do this; he could deal with the interns and the press and freaking _Maddie Hayward_ and-

"Eli? Peter wants to see us in his office; says it's urgent."

Jordan. The office's newest addition was going to be the death of him. He was Eli's next project.

"Yeah. I'm coming." The other man nodded and turned to go. Eli groaned and got up. As he was starting down the hall to follow Jordan, another intern fell into step with him. Eli did a quick mental search for a name: Kevin? Kenneth? Oh who cares.

"Um..Mr. Gold? I finished what you asked me to do; do you want to look over it now, or…?" Eli was about to snap a reply about not hounding him every minute of every day, and did it look like he was free right now? But then he actually took a moment to look at the boy. This brown haired kid who was looking at him with nervous, deer-in-the-headlights eyes couldn't be much older than Marissa. He was probably doing this for mandatory credit hours, or possibly just trying to get his foot in the door of politics. Eli remembered those days. He took a deep breath and replied as evenly as possible. "Thank you, Kevin. Put it on my desk, I'll get to it later." The boy grinned, looking nothing short of relieved. "Yes, sir."

Eli nodded in dismissal, feeling pretty good about himself. He turned back to Peter's office to see Jordan standing there, looking slightly amused. Eli raised his eyebrows, annoyed and expectant.

"Did you just call him Kevin?"

"Yeah?" Eli shrugged, pushing past Jordan and into the office. Jordan laughed and shook his head.

"Kid's name is Kyle."

_Whatever. _

…

Later that night and across town, Kalinda was on her way home when a group of police cars and an ambulance crowded around an alley caught her attention. The nosy investigator in her was curious, but a yawn reminded her how tired she was. "Not my department. Not my problem." That's when she noticed a car from the county morgue and a news van pulling up. That was definitely peculiar. She pulled over and made her way up to the yellow police tape. When she saw an officer she recognized, Kalinda called him over. "Hey! George!" Officer George Franklin walked up to her. "What's got the buzzards swarming?" She asked, indicating the news van and reporters being ushered further away from the crime scene by another officer. Franklin sighed. "We've got another one, Kalinda. Another girl; same MO, about the same age as the other two." Kalinda felt a chill go up her spine. Two months ago, an 18 year old girl had been found dead by a brook a couple of days after being reported missing. She'd been strangled. The following month, another girl, 19, had been found in a park—also choked. Both had also been missing any form of ID. Now this one. Kalinda looked past him at the crime scene photographers and crime scene investigators. "How old?" She asked, still not looking at George. The man shook his head. "If this is the Moore girl we've been looking for, and unfortunately I think it is, then she's twenty-one. God-dammit," he sighed. "We gotta get her back to the morgue, and the parents need to come down for an ID." He murmured curses as he turned away, and Kalinda watched as the body was loaded into the coroner's van. She pursed her lips and went back to her car. Son of a bitch was already getting bold. And every instinct Kalinda had told her that this was just the beginning.

…

Alicia knew something was off the second she stepped out of the elevator. It was too quiet. She spotted Will and Diane in the latter's office; she was sitting at her desk, and he was leaned against the edge, arm crossed over his chest. Both were turned toward the television and watching with somber interest. Alicia was about to go in when she notice Kalinda coming down the hall, head bent over her phone.

"Kalinda?"

The other woman looked up and smiled. "Alicia, hi."

"What's going on?" She glanced toward Dian's office.

Kalinda sighed. "They found another girl last night."

Alicia's heart froze in her chest. Her eyes went wide. "Kalinda, another one? What's that now, three in the past couple months?" Kalinda nodded.

"The department's pretty sure it's the same guy. They just…don't have a lot to go on, except that he strangles them and takes their driver's licenses or student ID's."

"_Why_?"

Kalinda hesitated. "Could be to try and stall the identification process, or mess with the cops. But if it is the same guy doing this, he's a serial killer, and taking the ID's as some sort of trophy."

Alicia shuddered. "What do you do about it?"

Kalinda shrugged. "Not much until they have more info, except warn young girls to be extra cautious—especially at night." Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to check it.

"I've got to go. Talk to you later?" Alicia nodded absently. When they'd parted, she quietly slipped into Diane's office. Diane nodded in greeting and Will smiled at her. They watched the rest of the broadcast in silence; Alicia flinched at images of the Lillian Moore's parents coming in and out of the police station. She took out her phone and quickly scrolled to Grace's name. As a reporter wrapped up the story with a promise to relay any new information to the public, Alicia texted out a quick message to her daughter.

_Come straight home after school today. Have a great day and be careful, sweetheart. _

_I love you._

She hit send and put the cell phone back in her purse. Diane hummed and turned off the TV.

"Just tragic, isn't it?" She commented, putting her glasses on and pulling out a file.

"Awful," Will replied softly.

Alicia swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded.

"Well. The city being gripped in fear doesn't lessen our own burden."

She began to brief them on their next case, and Alicia was more than happy to push everything else to the side for a little while.

…

Eli glanced down at his phone as he got closer to the restaurant. 7:05. Almost right on time. When he looked back up, he noticed Marissa standing under a streetlight in front of the building. She saw him coming, and a broad grin spreading across her face.

"Hey, Dad," she greeted, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled down at her and led the way into the restaurant. When they'd sat down, Marissa leaned forward and tilted her head.

"So; how's it feel to be free from the steely jaws of the criminal justice system? Are you really done?"

Eli snorted. "Yes. For now, anyway. They don't have anything else, but that's not to say they won't try and dig something up later. Not that there's anything there," he amended, giving her a pointed look. She smirked.

"I bet it's good to be back working for the political machine that almost royally screwed you over."

"_Marissa_. Can you stow the extremist liberal crap for tonight? It's my second week back." She studied him for a moment.

"You seem happy, Dad. Really, I'm glad you're back on the campaign, if that's what you want."

"Thank you; was that so hard to say?"

She rolled her eyes and the waiter came with their food. Eli wanted to change the subject.

"How about you? How's school?" She began to tell him about classes, but when she got to her political science class, her eyes lit up. He listened and nodded along with her, a fond look coming over his face as her passion level rose. She reminded him of her mother in that moment, and also of himself. It was one of the rewards of being a parent, he supposed; being able to see oneself in their children. Though at times he couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing.

…

They were standing outside the restaurant again about an hour and a half later. Eli waited while Marissa dug for her keys. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Marissa…they found a body last night. Another college student."

Her head snapped up, eyes widening. "Wow. That's really horrible, Dad. Is it…was it like the others?"

Eli shrugged. "I don't know details yet. I just know it was that twenty-one year old they've been looking for." Marissa tsk'd sadly.

"That's really messed up."

"Yeah," Eli sighed. "It is. Look, sweetie, I'm not trying to treat you like a child. Just…be extra careful, ok?" She opened her mouth, about to laugh away his fears, but he held up a hand.

"I know; you're eighteen, you're an adult, blah blah blah. You can take care of yourself. I just don't want you to get in the mindset that these things just can't happen to you. Be aware; that's all I'm saying."

Marissa rolled her eyes but relented. "Ok, Dad, alright. I'll be careful. I promise." He nodded before giving her a quick goodbye kiss on the forehead. "Call me in a few days?"

"Kay!"

He saw her to her car and waved as she pulled away. He headed back to his place, intending to relax and do nothing for the rest of the night. But turning on the news did little to help him do anything close to that.

…

Rowan James's heavy footsteps echoed off the concrete and steel in the silence of the city. It was quiet; eerily quiet and vacant this time of night, but he found the solace comforting. This was his favorite time; everyone else slowed down. Oh, but he was just getting started. Rowan turned down an alley and into his "second home" the underground, mold-infested basement of an abandoned old building. He reached into his pocket for his high-powered flashlight and went straight for the hollow place he'd carved into the floor. Lifting the cover, Rowan pulled out an aged but polished cigar box with a lock. He unhooked the key to the box from his bracelet, this one as precious to him as the key that let him in and kept others out of this hideout. He opened the lid and his heart rate quickened at the site of his treasures; he picked up one piece of plastic and held it in his hand, lightly running his thumb over the image. Jennifer Prince. Eighteen years old, with flowing red hair that shined in the moonlight. He gently laid it back down and picked up another one. Jasmine Garland. Nineteen. An African-American girl who's expressive, coffee-colored eyes had borne into Rowan's soul when they'd gone wide with terror. He clasped this one between his palms and closed his eyes for a moment before putting it back. Finally, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, the one closest to his heart, and pulled out the newest addition. Lillian Moore. Twenty-one. A tall, blonde girl who's china blue eyes and high cheek bones had enticed him. Her pale skin was as soft as he'd imagined it to be. A police car slowly drove by, shining a light in the alleys and back streets. Rowan shut of his flash light and ducked down instinctively, though he knew no one could see or hear him down here. When the car passed, he put all the ID's in the box and sealed it back up. No time to linger. The police would be on high alert and he'd have to step up his game. Quietly, Rowan James slipped out of the building and back into the night, as if he'd never been there at all.


End file.
